


The Hunter

by TheWolfPuppy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluffy moments though, M/M, McReaper, Supernatural - Freeform, Violent but not graphic depictions per sé, Werewolf, mcreyes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 14:32:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10721247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWolfPuppy/pseuds/TheWolfPuppy





	The Hunter

“I’m not exactly sure why, but I see a lot of potential in you, kid. So the way I see it, you have two options—help me hunt, or die.”

Those were the first words he said to me. Or, at least, the first words I remember him saying to me. 

Ma always warned me if I hang out with the wrong crowd of wolves, a hunter was gonna come looking for us. She told me not to flaunt my wolf around too much and don’t cause no human too much trouble or I’d wind up dead, and the last thing she wanted to do was bury her only son because he went and made a fool of himself. But I didn’t listen.

I still don’t think we wolves should have to conform to human society just ‘cause we’re different, but I think that’s a small part of the reason why I still do what I do. What he did. That’s a bit farther down my story, though. I’m still at the beginning. 

Anyway, I was a rambunctious whelp, always had been, and in a way I still am I guess, but I definitely didn’t listen to Ma, and I found myself my own little pack of sorts. Just a bunch of other wolves around my age hanging out and doing delinquent stuff. Called ourselves the “Deadlock Pack.” I was around fifteen at the time I decided to join them. We were small at first, just robbing a few farmers, scaring some old ladies at night, but then we got bigger, and more serious, and that’s when we ran into /him/. I was seventeen, all my “friends” I was assigned the particular job I was on that evening were older than me. Maybe that’s one reason he decided to take pity on me, I was still just a whelp, though it wasn’t gonna be too long before I was fully grown. 

Everything was going smoothly, according to plan, we were almost done with the job, and then Gabriel Reyes showed up. He was the most feared hunter around, and is still hated the supernatural world ‘round—just saying his name around a vampire is likely to get yourself a good lick to the nose. When he showed up, all hell broke loose. Wolves were running every which way, but none of them could out-run Gabriel Reyes’s silver bullets. I vaguely remember another wolf getting into a physical tussle with him, but that just ended with Gabriel breaking his neck before sending a bullet though his head. 

Most of that particular event is a blur, though, and all I can remember thinking is “Ma’s gonna have to bury her only son.” 

Then the world went black. 

According to Gabe, somehow I got hit on the head pretty hard with everyone rushing to get away, but when I came to, I opened my eyes and looked around. The smell of blood was everywhere. The other wolves were all dead, their corpses scattered haphazardly across the desert sands where we were operating. I was in my wolf form and he was looming over me, his eyes glowing a bright red, black smoke pouring from his body. It was clear that if this hunter was a human, he suffered from some sort of curse condemning him to protect humans from creatures like me. With his dark aura, though, it was no wonder they called him the “Reaper.” 

“I’m not exactly sure why, but I see a lot of potential in you, kid. So the way I see it, you have two options—help me hunt, or die.”

I was seventeen, and this guy had just killed all of the other wolves I thought were my friends, but I also knew I didn’t want to die, so I didn’t say anything and just let my fatigue take over and passed back out.

Next time I regained consciousness, I found myself butt naked in my human form on Gabe’s couch underneath a blanket. 

“It’s about time you woke up,” he said, without even looking over at me. His hunter’s curse must have given him some weird sixth sense to know what was going on with me at all times because he always knew, no matter what. “There are some clothes for you on the coffee table, go ahead and put them on. I won’t turn around or anything until you do.” 

When I fully came to and realized what was going on, though, my first thought was definitely not on the clothes. “Hey! You’re the bastard what killed all my friends!” I shouted, fangs extending, ready to lunge even though I knew it would mean certain death.  
The Reaper didn’t even bother turning around, though. “Those wolves weren’t your friends. They weren’t even your family. I did some research while you were passed out—your actual pack are model citizens. Those wolves were using you, kid. Put some pants on, and then call your mother. She’s probably worried sick.” 

“I ain’t no kid,” was the only real way I knew how to respond because I knew he was right, though I still had a low growl in my voice. “The name’s McCree. Jesse McCree.” 

“Well, McCree, Jesse McCree,” Gabriel responded, nonchalantly turning the page of his newspaper he was reading as if he was not worried about the hulking, angry werewolf with the hurt pride standing butt naked in his living room, “put the pants on and sit down.” And I honestly didn’t know what else to do but put the pants on and sit down, just like he said. 

Once I had my pants on and sat back down, I took a look around the place. It was spotless, immaculate. Before I even had a chance to comment on the surroundings, though, Reyes, holding his coffee mug and still focusing on his newspaper, simply said “Make sure you wipe your paws off every time you come in.” He took a sip of his coffee before continuing on. “I assume, that is, if I won’t have to be cleaning werewolf blood out of my carpet. You remember your two options, right, Jesse?” 

Another low growl escaped my throat; I did indeed remember his ultimatum. I also remember what he had said about researching my family, and I didn’t want him of all people especially to break it to Ma that I had died, so really as far as I could see it, I didn’t have any other option but to begrudgingly agree. “Fine, I’ll help you or whatever,” I answered, “but I won’t like it.”

“I’m not asking you to like it.” 

“I didn’t say you were,” I responded. “What does a world famous hunter like you need help from a werewolf like me, anyway, though?” 

“I don’t,” he replied. “I just felt like being charitable. Shame to let so much young potential go to waste, but I would if I had to, and still will, so don’t forget it.”  
It would be many more years before I learned the true reason Gabriel Reyes wanted an apprentice, though “successor” would be a more accurate descriptor.  
Gabe had a spare room in his apartment he let me stay in—it was a two-bedroom, and he only needed one—and took me thrift-store shopping for some clothes because I begged him not to go to my house and tell Ma what was going on and get some of my clothes from there. I still hated him out of principle, but he really wasn’t all that bad of a guy, and I resented the fact that he was growing on me. Seven days later, that is, seven days after I woke up naked on his couch, I went on my first job with him. 

The job was simple enough, there were these three big nasty vampires that ran a coven collective known as “Talon”. Our job was to take them out, one by one. Gabe said it wouldn’t lead to the organization’s disbanding—Talon was much too big for that—but it would disrupt their activities for a good while, and I personally had no qualms with offing a vampire. Before setting off, Gabe went over the plan in detail and showed me how to use a wooden stake effectively. Two days later, starved, dehydrated, and sleep-deprived to the point of hallucinating, we finished the job. 

Jobs kept going on like that, though sometimes it was ghosts, evil faeries, various cryptids, and other paranormal or supernatural beings. Gabe wouldn’t let me go on the missions that involved werewolves at first, for obvious reasons, which I was thankful for, really. That went on for years, and I had grown content with it, even excited for the thrill of another hunt, until one day Gabe sent me on a mission by myself. 

“You’ve been hunting with me for eight years now, Jesse. It’s time you start going on missions by yourself.”  
“What?” I wasn’t scared or nervous and I knew I could handle it, I was just shocked. Gabe’s entire existence seemed to be hunting, so to send me on a mission by myself seemed very out of place. “Why?”

“Because there’s nothing more I can teach you,” he replied solemnly. “You’ve become my equal, and one day you’ll replace me. You have to start getting used to going out on your own.” 

“Replace you? What do you mean?” 

“You’ll find out soon enough. Here are the details,” he said, handing me a brown envelope with everything I needed to know for the mission inside, “now go.”  
I went, and came back three days later, and Gabe was like a completely different person. He no longer acted like the guy who took me in to teach me to hunt, didn’t feel like my boss anymore, he no longer was my superior. He was like a roommate. He’d go on his hunts, and I’d go on mine. And I didn’t feel any resentment towards him anymore. I almost admired him, even. If one were to carefully analyze all the data, they might conclude that I ended up falling in love with him. And they’d be right. 

The man that I witnessed slaughtering every wolf in sight but me. I ended up falling in love with. To tell you the truth, I’m still ashamed of myself for it, but I don’t regret it, either. 

“One day you’re going to have to kill me, Jesse McCree.”  
We were sitting on his couch in the living room of his apartment, watching an old scary movie (that really wasn’t all that scary because we lived that kind of shit every day). We had both just came back from our individual missions and decided to unwind with a cheesy movie, some popcorn, and a couple of beers when Gabe said this to me out of nowhere. 

I immediately paused the movie and turned to Gabe, the most puzzled expression ever on my face. “Wait, what did you just say?” 

“One day you’re—“

“It was a rhetorical question, dumbass.” 

“Well I’m being dead serious, here.” 

“What makes you think I would ever do that?” 

“Because,” he turned to me with the most serious expression I’ve probably ever seen on his face and began to explain, “the hunter’s curse that’s been placed on me to allow me to detect and be protected from supernatural entities is also slowly driving me insane, and one day I’ll completely lose it and turn. That’s why I need you to kill me. I didn’t train you to be a hunter because I took pity on you, Jesse. I was not just being charitable. I trained you to be a hunter so one day there would be someone who could successfully hunt me.”

“Well,” I said, relatively loudly and with a soft but audible growl in my throat, “you failed.” 

“And why is that?” Gabe responded almost without reaction in his voice, but had the smallest smirk on his face, as if he knew something was up, and he probably did. 

“Because I am in love with you, damn it.” 

It just slipped out. I couldn’t control it. I was too angry. My fangs bared too much. I couldn’t stand the thought of having to kill Gabriel Reyes. But at this point, there was no point in trying to cover it up or hide it, no point in trying to explain away my words because there was no explanation. 

My head was turned away in embarrassment, my arms were crossed over my chest, and my face was probably fire engine red, but the next thing I knew, Gabriel Reyes was chuckling. “You act as if I didn’t know that already, Jesse.” He placed his hand on my chin, turned my head so that my eyes were locked with his, and the next thing I knew, his lips were locked with mine. 

But, just like always, he was right again. I was the one that ended up killing him. 

We were together for seven years, engaged for one, married for four. Gabe wanted a daughter, but knew our jobs were too dangerous and he’d end up turning too quickly to enjoy a child, so we adopted a pair of cats instead (Gabe always said one big dog in the house was enough). I, of course, moved out of my room and into his, and the spare bedroom was occupied by the cats. It took a while for the cats to get used to me, but they did, and the four of us were as happy a little family as we could be. Those were the happiest, shortest years of my life. 

Then, one day, almost out of the blue, it seemed, though I knew he’d been fighting it for years, he finally grew too weak to resist anymore, and fell to the darkness. 

His body was completely consumed by the black-looking’ smoke that enveloped his body when he was hunting, almost as if he didn’t have a corporeal form anymore. It took me several days after I noticed he was gone, but, almost as if he was waiting for me to show up, I found him right where he first found me, in the desert on the road we were using to attempt to escape the night Gabe and I first met, right by the large boulder I had passed out near. 

He lunged at me, told me he should have killed me the first time he had the chance, but I knew the real Gabe didn’t mean that, and this was not the real Gabe. We fought long and hard, and, among other injuries, he ended up shattering the bones in my left arm so badly later the doctors had to amputate it. But, broken bones and cuts and bruises and all, I ended up pinning him to the ground of the sand-covered wasteland and, just like how he showed me the night of my first mission, drove a wooden stake into his heart, ending his life and finally putting him out of his misery. 

After it was over, I couldn’t do anything but kneel over Gabe’s body, tears streaming down my face, the smell of blood strong everywhere, just like the day I first laid eyes on him. 

“Somebody had to do it,” I said to myself. “I guess it seemed fittin’ it’d be me.” 

I still live in our apartment, still have our cats, though they’re getting up in years, and still hunt. Hunt for his memory. Hunt because it’s the only thing I’ve known in my adult years. Hunt because it’s something a werewolf like me can make himself useful doing without sitting by idly pretending to just be human. Hunt because the apartment seems so empty without him, the bed seems so cold. And I’ll probably end up dead because of hunting, too, but it’s okay. 

“Somebody has to do it,” I say to myself before every hunt I go on. “I guess it seems fittin’ it’d be me.”


End file.
